


Fun

by Spayne



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25490530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spayne/pseuds/Spayne
Summary: Villanelle ruminates on what might have been
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 57
Kudos: 112





	Fun

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to...
> 
> 1\. My employer  
> 2\. Those who would rather that I get on with writing ‘it’ for my other story  
> 3\. My daughter who has been playing outside in a woolly hat for an indeterminate amount of time because I wasn’t specific enough in my request that she wear a hat in the sun....
> 
> Whoops...
> 
> Anyway...bet you can’t guess what I’ve been listening to today....

When it happens, it isn’t as you imagined.  


You had pictured another ballroom maybe. That would have been nice. You’ve had lessons now, or would that have spoilt it? Was it the imperfection which made it what it was?

Anyway.

You didn’t imagine it an airport. Or maybe you did. You’ve thought about it a lot. Sometimes it’s a just a shared glance, over before it starts. Other times it’s a conversation in a bar. Or bodies entangled in a dimly lit hotel room.

But there she is, and here you are.

Today you sit in the lounge overlooking the terminal. You sip coolish champagne, pick through the lacklustre sandwiches. 

She hated the trappings of your money, and true to that she sits in the middle of the terminal.  


Since her you’ve drifted back to the expensive hotels and overpriced lounges. It’s your life again after all.

Its not a bad life either. Its just another version of a life. You've had to reinvent your vision of the future enough times. After the orphanage. After Anna. After the prison. After Paris. After her. After her hurt the most, but you aren't angry. Not any more.

You have a few nice apartments. You travel between them. You move with the seasons. You follow autumn. Its the crunch under foot that you can’t let go of. She hated the pine needles, the carpet laid between your porch and the shoreline. Always so grumpy about the prickliness. You remind her that persistence against prickliness is what lead you to end up together. She still grumbled. You bought her some cheap flip flops from a tourist shop. She wore them almost constantly and after she left you began to wear them yourself. When the strap eventually broke you threw them in the bin and then cried all day.

You aren't sad any more. Not really.Not in the same way at least. 

Its a new life but not a sad one. You have a friend. He's a retired pilot bitter from a divorce. You have dinner together occasionally when you are in the New York apartment. He is refreshingly honest, he doesn't care what you think of him and he makes you laugh.

You tried another relationship. Five years wearing a skin that someone else wanted in order to get the life you wanted with her. 

You mourned her all over again when that ended and its not been a mistake that you've repeated. 

You buy three tickets at the movies and put your bag and coat on the spares.

You designed and built a house, taking pleasure in imaging how fun it would have been to do it together. 

Not a bad life. Just a different one.

You think you can see more grey in her hair, but its hard to tell from this distance. When she stood staring at them in your bathroom mirror she insisted that they were silver. You didn’t care either way, they were part of her. Although now that you have your own, you understand it more. You probably understand her more too, in a way that you couldn't before.

Seeing her now, you don’t feel the way you expected either. You pictured anger. You pictured bitterness. You feel neither. Thats not a new thing though. She never made you feel the way you expected. 

You want to know why she's here. Who shes with. Where she's been and where she is going. You understand her old hunger to know you in a way that you didn't then as well. 

But you’ve been good since she left. She asked you not to try to find her. You never could deny her anything so you were good. You didn't watch her go. That would have been too much. The quiet click of the front door was enough. 

You don't know anything from the last ten years. You didn't realise how hungry you had been for those details, or maybe it’s that if anything is part of you for long enough you forget its there.

You've imagined. Obviously. 

Maybejournalism. Thinking on it she was never much of a writer. You used to leave her little notes around the house, a habit you couldn't shake, you always hoped she'd leave you long drawn out answers. A small disappointment amongst many. It doesn't matter any more.

Maybe she went back to Carolyn. No. She absolutely wouldn't have done that.

Maybe she put her degree to use and worked with rehabilitating criminals. That one amuses you.

A teenage boy flops on to the chair opposite her. Your throat closes up until you see that he is too old to be hers. He leans forward on the table says something, teasing perhaps. She balls up a paper napkin and thows it at him. He sits back with a grin.

She looks happy. Its nice. The younger you might have scorned this. Not the exciting life you thought she wanted. You're different now though, you know that exciting doesn't have to be danger, blood and death. Exciting can just be life with the right person. It’s something you know now.  
  


You scan the crowd looking for whoever is with her. You wonder if it will be a man or a woman, you wonder which would make you more jealous. Are you jealous? You don't know.

A woman sits down at the table. The woman is beautiful. Good. She picks up what must be Eve's bag to look through it for something, finds it and produces it with a little theatrical flourish. She sits next to Eve who kisses her cheek before returning to her book.

You remember her at airports, flushed and anxious. You think that you would have liked the opportunity to know her like this. In hindsight there were lots of gaps. You only had her for two years after all. 

She's wearing glasses. She used to hide them from you. She wore them whilst you were out, took them off whenever you were in the room. She said they made her look old. You didn't agree. She continued to hide them from you. But she wears them now seemingly without those old worries. 

Yes, it would have been nice to have her like this. 

You've never wanted children. You didn't think she did. Would you have wanted them with her? It could have been fun.  


Maybe.

Maybe not.

Wherever she finds herself now, you can’t imagine that the two of you would have tried this together. Not really. But sometimes it’s fun to pretend.

She'd make you fly economy. You'd gripe about it but ultimately you'd do as she asks. Maybe there would have been a child? A girl? A boy? It doesn't matter. They could have sat in between you. A messy mop of hair curled into her side as they both slept next to you. 

  
That could have been nice.

Maybe it could have been you.

You consider going down there. 

Maybe you ask her what you could have changed? What you could have done differently that might have kept her. You spent years searching for that magic bullet, maybe she would give you an answer.

Maybe she'd see you and she'd feel it again. Maybe it could all go back to how it was. Even when she left she said she still loved you, that she always would.  


You didn't understand that then. You couldn’t comprehend it; if you love someone why would you leave them?

The woman has her hand in Eve's hair, idly playing with the curls. You can still feel them around your fingers. Even after all these years.

They look happy. Its nice.

You leave some money on the table and go downstairs. The lift is slow. 

You pull your case behind you.

The boy wears headphones.

The woman has a watch.

As you pass the table you let your hand brush her hair just once.

Yeah, you reflect, this would have been fun.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve done cinema bag chair a disservice. 
> 
> I’ve made it sound like a sad and lonely thing when actually it’s a good way to get a bit of extra space and to prevent your things from having to go on gross cinema floors.
> 
> Think about it, that’s all I’m saying.


End file.
